Fires of Passion
by DragonKnight - Beta 26
Summary: Original story property of Namless-Origin. I have taken over as per his request to due to his LoA. A retelling of the entire story of Eragon from the beginning, but this time, Riders were given a choice. They could either ride their dragons...or fly beside them. Eragon is plunged into a destiny he could have never prepared for, and given a gift he could have never imagined. ExS
1. Discovery

**First things first. Any of you who have previously read this story already know this, but to any new readers, I must say this. This story is NOT my original work. It ultimately belongs to Namless-Origin. Unfortunately, life has thrown him a very bad hand, and as such, he is taking a Leave of Absence from FF. To that end, he has asked me to take in his story and keep it alive, until a time he can come back.**

**Now, I must be clear on a few points first. All material in the first thirteen chapters are his. I may have gone in, and edited slightly or spruced them up, but all content is of his making. The content that comes from me will begin in Chapter 14.**

**Secondly, and please understand, _Blood of a Dragon _and _Uncertain Future _will be taking prioirty over this story in terms of updates. There several reasons for this, but primarily it is because those stories I have actual plans and outlines for where they are going. _Fires of Passion _will take some time for me to lay out and decide where I am taking it.**

**I WILL strive to update this as often as possible, however, do not get discouraged by lack of activity. As I have said before, I will NEVER abandon a story (hence why I am adopting this one). It may take weeks or months to update, but they shall never be forgotten. As we speak, I am currently drawing up a rough outline for _Fires, _and hope to at least get one new chapter up soon.**

**Thank you for your understanding, and please enjoy another wonderful ExS tale.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Discovery**

An eerie breeze blew through the thick forest known to all throughout Alagaësia as the Spine. It was a terrible place where legends were told, where myths were created, and heroes never returned. The dense forests of the Spine might've been the most unfortunate parts throughout the entire land. But many poor farm-folk usually had no choice, but to venture into the treacherous mountainside for food and supplies for the upcoming winter months. One villager who had managed to enter the cursed mountains, and return, several times was Eragon. The young farm-hand had been sent up into the Spine for a hunt by his adoptive parent, and uncle, Garrow.

For most of the year, Eragon, his uncle Garrow, and cousin Roran would grow and harvest their crops and live off the land, selling off any excess growth for other much needed supplies which they weren't able to grow, build, or think about during the rest of the year. But this year hadn't been good for them. Which was exactly why Garrow sent Eragon up into the cursed mountainside. To try and catch some game to put less stress on the price his uncle could sell his crops for.

It had been hours since Eragon had started chasing one in-particular doe, which was misfortunately hobbling around through the forest, trying to escape Eragon and remain alive for another day. Eragon knew that if he didn't kill it, a wolf would definitely get to her. So it was easier to put it out of its misery now, rather than letting it suffer before the inevitable.

Eragon had scouted the injured animal away from its herd. And was waiting to pick his moment. Waiting to find the right landscape, with no obstacles, little to no elevation, and for the damned wind to disappear completely. With his bow at the ready, all Eragon needed was the right circumstances.

The young hunter crept slowly through the thick underbrush. His hunt was always just out of sight, all because he didn't want to startle the poor thing. Eventually it would tire out and collapse on the ground, which would've been too easy for Eragon, but he would've taken any luck given to him at the time. Anything to help out his family.

Eragon knelt low to the ground. His greatest fear had come true. The injured doe that he'd been chasing was laying in the middle of a clearing, but with a wolf's jaw wrapped firmly around its neck, the kill was taken. Eragon lifted his bow and took aim at the wolf, only to watch as a group of three more emerged from the bushes. The wolf had a family, and he was only trying to feed it. Eragon slowly released the tension within his arm and lowered the weapon. Turning away in defeat, it had been the fifth day in a row where he was unsuccessful. Tomorrow was his last chance. If he didn't catch anything by sundown the next day, it would've been a waste of time which he could've spent trying to gather up the last few rows of that year's growth. It wasn't something he was looking forward to, yet always remained inevitable in the back of his mind.

As the young hunter set up camp and ate a light meal, he headed off to bed early, planning on starting his hunt earlier the next morning. Giving him the best chance to find something by the end of the day.

Eragon awoke well before dawn the next morning. Finding his bearings from several marks left out from the previous night. The air was still, which gave him a good feeling about the day. Although it was just light enough to see his hand at maximum reach, Eragon knew that the risk had to be taken.

After Eragon had packed up all his belongings, there was a dull thud behind him. Eragon turned around immediately, wondering what had made the noise. He drew out his knife waiting for something to attack, but, everything was still. He stood there for another moment, waiting for something to show itself but nothing was all he saw. As Eragon turned back to his pack and sheathed his knife was when everything happened. There was a thunder of hooves against the dirt as an entire herd of deer fled past Eragon. Each one missing him by mere inches. Once the stampede had ended, Eragon stood shocked. He was surprised at how each one had managed to miss him completely, but what confused him more was why they were running. It was far too early for anyone else to be out and about. Let alone in the Spine. He was the only one 'mad' enough to even venture up into the mountains. Curiosity got the better of the hunter as he trekked off in the opposite direction of the startled herd. By the time Eragon had prepared his bow the herd would've been lost, so there was no point in following them anyway.

Eragon strode off into the wilderness, taking note of where he was going so he could return to camp and collect his things after investigating what had caused the dull thud from before. Eragon continued onward, the smell of charred wood becoming all to prominent as he continued forward, and it only grew stronger as the young hunter moved closer to his destination.

It took just over ten minutes for Eragon to reach the site, and not a soul was to be seen. Everything was dead still, there was a fine mist that crawled along the mountain floor, The intense scent of charred or burnt wood was almost unbearable. When he saw what had caused it. In the middle of a tree, sheared directly in half and charred iron black, was a beautifully clean blue stone. The Sapphire object was slightly metallic in colour, and pure white veins traced across its surface, crossing over paths and netting around the entire stone. Eragon was dumbfounded at what he saw. Perhaps luck did mean something after all. He took a step closer, but gained second thoughts. Never before had he seen anything like this, inspecting the damage closely, it was comparable to what a lightning storm was capable of, yet, the rocks appearance was much more of a mystery to him.

Eragon was conflicted. He wanted to take the stone home because he had nothing else of worth from the entire hunt. Yet, if he did, his uncle would berate him for bringing something that seemingly appeared by magic into the house, it was the only explanation! _Garrow doesn't have to know._ Eragon thought to himself. _Maybe someone in the village would know something more about it._ The young hunter stepped towards the charred remains and slowly picked up the blue stone. Its weight surprisingly light for the image it carried. Happy enough with his find, Eragon headed back to camp to collect his gear, and head back off to Carvahall. _It could pay for some meat in the very least._

After collecting his supplies and checking his bearings once more, Eragon headed off back towards home much earlier than he had originally expected to. It took several hours for the young hunter to leave the mountainous landscape of the Spine, which was almost the same time it took to reach his camping-ground nearly a week ago. The polished stone's weight wasn't slowing him down much, which meant he could be home well before sundown if everything went according to plan.

The sun was well into the sky, as Eragon set his belongings down on a cliff-face overlooking Palancar valley. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from several locations throughout the valley, and in less than a moment of searching, Eragon spotted Carvahall, and the countless crop-fields that surrounded the small town. Eragon tore off a small piece of his remaining ration of bread, and took a moment to enjoy the view while it lasted. It would be at least several months before he even considered journeying back up into the Spine, as Winters had been harsh over the past few years, and this year was shaping up to be another one to remember. There was still another full month of Fall remaining, and already snow had been falling in above average amounts. Something about this year didn't feel right to Eragon.

After several minutes of gathering up as many memories of the view as possible, Eragon slung his pack onto his back, and headed down the mountainside. He estimated that it would take about two hours to get back to Carvahall, and, Eragon would head over to Sloan's to see if he could get anything of value out of the stone. Eragon hated Sloan, but the feelings were mutual. There were only two things that stopped Eragon from attacking Sloan at any opportunity. The fact that Katrina, Sloan's only daughter, and Roran were in love with each other, and that Garrow had taught Eragon better manners than to lash out at an adult. Also because he was only the town's butcher, and Eragon happened to need his services often as of late.

The trip down the mountainside was slow and treacherous. The closer to the ground Eragon walked, the thicker the snow became. Granted that when he reached the bottom it was only up to the top of his foot, any misplaced foot on a snow-covered rock could mean anything from a twisted ankle, to a death-slide down to the bottom. Neither of which sounded too appealing to Eragon. The young hunter strolled into town as he normally did. Saying hello to anyone he knew, and gave a quick smile to people he didn't. Although the village was small, its inhabitants were far-spread throughout the valley. Eragon lived the furthest away from the town, but it was still much closer than Therinsford, the largest settlement in all of Palancar valley.

After several minutes of navigating his way through the town, Eragon finally made his way to the old story-teller's hut. Brom was rarely seen outside during the daytime. Opting to spend his nights out as they added to the mood with his stories. Some said that he hated the daylight or anything brightly coloured except a flame. But to Eragon it was all just a rumour started by children who couldn't tell a horse from a donkey.

The young hunter knocked once on the old man's door, receiving a slight grunt in response. Eragon stood patiently for a moment, but when he received no more sign, he knocked once more. The door swung inward quickly, revealing a haggard old man with a thick grey beard. "What do you want?" He grunted coarsely.

"I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time." Eragon replied, still keeping his polite outlook.

"Why? What did I ever do to you?"

"I wanted to ask you about something from one of your stories." Eragon leant in closer and lowered his voice. "Something about magic."

The old man retreated from his doorframe and pushed it open wider. Waving his hand inwardly, gesturing for Eragon to step inside. The hut was a mess. There was a single hammock hanging over a corner and many shelves covered in lots of old pieces of cloth or broken furniture. With all the spare materials on one shelf alone Eragon figured he could make the hut an entire new frame. But he wasn't going to comment on the old man's home. "What is it that you want to know Eragon? There are many secrets a man must know before even trying to practise magic. I know so myself..."

"The story you told a week ago. The one about how Galbatorix used fireballs to burn down an entire village. Can that really happen?"

"Why of course it can. I don't make up these stories you know. I was there when he did it! Sure, his forsaken dragon helped him, but I saw it with my own eyes I did!"

"Is it possible to create a fireball, and sent it somewhere else?"

"You mean like a transport spell?" Eragon nodded eagerly, as if finding his answer would be easier than first expected. "Nay, that isn't possible. You can't send magic to another location with magic. It can be deflected, re-directed or manipulated. But not transported." Brom paused for a moment and leant back in his chair. "It has been said that if a transportation spell is used it causes an explosion, but I have never witnessed one appearing. I've watched people send items, but never seen one appear."

_That's it! It was sent by magic!_ "Then why..." Eragon reached around into his bag, pulling out the stone wrapped in cloth to prevent it from scratching. "Would someone send something like this to the Spine?"

The old man's eyes widened as the sapphire blue stone was revealed. Immediately the old man stood up and walked to the other side of his tent. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it in the Spine. It was sent there because I saw a tree split in two by it. And it looked like it was a fireball because everything was burnt around it."

"So then it's true. Transportation spells do cause an explosion at the point of destination."

"But why would someone send this to the Spine?"

"I don't know Eragon. But what I do know is that isn't an ordinary stone. Can't you feel it? There is something unnatural about it, I know it! Keep it hidden, let no-one know you have it, because I'll bet my hut that it came from the wretched king himself! Let it be your secret, and yours only! I won't tell anyone if no-one else finds out. Go home Eragon, There is nothing more here for you." Brom watched as Eragon re-wrapped up the flawless stone and put it back in his bag.

"What's so special about this stone? It's just a polished rock."

"I said go home!" The old man rushed towards Eragon and opened the door forcibly, sending Eragon out and slamming it shut just as quickly.

Eragon didn't want to believe the old man's words. The very stone he found in the Spine was once in possession of the tyrant king. The very essence of that thought meant that Eragon had the entire village in danger of the king's wrath. Or maybe it was the very opposite. Maybe the stone wasn't worth anything to the king, so he had it sent away, just for something to do. The whole situation seemed surreal. As if the stone Eragon carried on his back meant nothing, yet everything. Either way, Eragon had the stone in his possession. If the king wanted it back, he would have to come and get it.

It was early afternoon as Eragon started his trek back to his home. The hours he had planned to bargain for a good price for the stone had turned into free-time, which he wanted nothing more than to get home after a week on his own. Although he hadn't caught anything, Eragon wasn't going home empty handed. He had the stone for himself, but for the family, he had nothing but the stories of his near-misses and 'only just' encounters. The story of the sapphire stone would remain a mystery. He would put it under his bed and leave it there until either he was moving away, or the king wanted it back, assuming that Brom's story was correct. But for the moment, it was his, and his only.

Eragon strolled down the road towards his house. The hour long walk through the light snow quickly diminished as two human silhouettes appeared in the field, bobbing up and down sifting through the tracks to collect the last few pieces of crop which they hadn't reached over the previous day's work. And the moment Roran glanced down the road, he stood up and walked towards his younger cousin, throwing what he had collected into the wheel-barrow placed beside him.

"So, the hunter returns after a week of camping under the stars. What's it like having so much free-time? Eh Eragon?" Roran's comments pitched greatly with much sarcasm.

"Shut up Roran. I don't see you going up into those mountains anytime soon." Eragon just walked past his obviously annoyed cousin and headed towards the house.

"Roran! You finish up here." Garrow called out, moving towards the house with Eragon, promptly wrapping an arm around his shoulder as they walked. Roran grumbled incoherently for a few moments until they were out of earshot. "Don't worry about him Eragon. With the early snowfall we've been pushed to pull in the crops faster than expected. We've both been working non-stop for the past four days."

"I didn't know it was snowing here, otherwise I would've come home sooner."

"Don't worry yourself Eragon. You need to enjoy this time while it lasts. You won't be fifteen forever, take some time to relax before you have to join the working world." Garrow pushed open the door to their home and allowed Eragon inside.

"I'm sorry I couldn't catch anything. I was going to take a deer, but a wolf beat me to it."

"Why didn't you just shoot the wolf?"

"It had a family. I couldn't kill the father of those cubs."

"So instead you'd rather us go starving." Eragon glanced towards his uncle then turned towards his room. "I received word from town the other day that the traders are coming up again. As far as I know, they could be here as soon as next week, but if Winter comes along, and they're not here. We'll have to survive on what we have."

"I'm sorry I didn't catch anything uncle."

"We'll make it Eragon. Same as every year. I'll see you for supper."

Eragon entered his room, closed his door, and placed his pack on the bed. Reaching into it he pulled out the stone and unwrapped the cloth from around it. Eragon ran his fingers along its surface, feeling no friction against his fingertips. Eragon thought about what Brom had told him once more. Wondering if any of what the old man said was actually true. Maybe it was just a shiny rock that was sent to the Spine by mistake. Yet Eragon couldn't help but feel that there was something special about the stone, that there was an aura about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Either way, it was his, and would remain that way until such a moment arose.

* * *

**On second thought, it might be easier to update and polish these chapters one at a time.**

**As of now, I'm going to take them down and rework them, re-posting them once they have been reworked. This will also give me a chance to properly formulate a plan as to how to continue this story**


	2. Winter

**Chapter 2:** **Winter**

* * *

"What do you mean it's in the hands of a poor farm-boy?" Brom was sitting in his hut, a bowl of water in his hands with the image of an armoured gladiator visible. The rich, accented voice rose from the hard shell of water, a clear tone of annoyance in it. "Does he even know that he's holding the fate of Alagaësia in his hands?"

"No, Ajihad. The boy thinks it's just a polished stone," the old story-teller replied, turning back to his pot to check on his dinner. "I told him to keep it safe, not to let anyone else know about it."

"Is he trustworthy?" the dark-skinned man's eyes narrowed.

"Of course. He doesn't know anything, why do you think he came to me first? It was my stories of the riders and magic that brought him to me." Brom huffed, looking like the man in the bowl should already know this.

"Then how did it get there?"

"When was the last time you checked on its convoy?"

The muscle-bound gladiator leant off to one side, muttering silently to an advisor. "We trusted that Arya would be able to keep the egg safe. I will send out a convoy first thing tomorrow morning, and request a magician to scry for her immediately." Ajihad nodded in a direction other than the water, signalling to the Varden's best magicians to start the search. "If anyone can find her, it would be the Twins."

"We can be sure that she had been intercepted. Although why she sent it towards me I don't know. It would've been in much safer hands with you."

"At least we still have it. Brom, you must have that egg in your possession as soon as possible. Offer him anything for it. I will send a convoy to collect it as of tomorrow. We almost lost it once. We can only hope that the elves are alright." The man's expression softened slightly. "It is good to see you again, Brom. Only next time I hope it is under better circumstances."

"Aye. I will contact you again when it is in my possession." After a few moments of pleasantries, the water returned to exactly that. The old man drank the water, then filled his bowl with the stew he'd just finished cooking.

* * *

"Eragon! Wake up!" Eragon awoke with a jolt, the sapphire stone held tightly against his chest. He took a moment to collect himself when he heard someone knocking at his door. "C'mon Eragon! We have work to do. It's not like you're still in the mountains having some time off!" Eragon quickly pushed the stone under his covers as Roran appeared in the doorway.

"Hey shut up Roran." Eragon flipped over, moving the stone to against the wall, burying it under his tattered sheet. "I'll get up when I'm ready. I thought the crops were in already. Isn't it snowing?"

"Maybe. I just thought it would've been better if you didn't spend your entire life sleeping, or wasting time."

Eragon reached towards one of his shelves, throwing a small stone towards his cousin. "Get out of my room! Maybe if I wasn't lazy enough I would get up and beat you the same way I did last time!"

"I let you win and you know it!" Roran had ducked behind the doorframe to dodge the thrown rock. "But if you want a rematch, you're on!"

"Roran, leave Eragon alone!" Garrow shouted at the eldest of the two. "You may have been picking crops all week but Eragon had to climb up the mountainside. If you ask me, you've both done the same amount of work. Now get in here and stop asking for a fight. It's too cold to go outside without wearing all of your clothes at once, and you're not fighting inside." The old man shouted from the kitchen table. "Besides, breakfast is ready."

Roran left Eragon's door and took a seat beside his father. Eating whatever was on the table within reach. Eragon took a moment to put the stone in a better hiding place, moving it to underneath his bed instead of on top of it. As Eragon slid the stone under the wooden frame, he heard a slight squeak coming from under his bed. _Damned rats, _he thought absently to himself. After running his hands through his hair, Eragon stepped into the kitchen and sat down opposite to his cousin. They both eyed each other for a moment before remembering Garrow's words and eating in peace together.

"Isn't this better? You're both going to have to get used to this because you're not going outside until the traders are here. And that could be any number of weeks away." Garrow placed his hand on Roran's shoulder. "So Roran, you had better calm down and get over the fact that Eragon went away for a week. And Eragon, you shouldn't push your cousin. He'll be leaving before the end of next year so enjoy the time you have together while it lasts."

Eragon stopped eating and looked at his cousin. A deep resonate sadness suddenly ran through Eragon. Roran was leaving? "But...why?"

"I'm sorry, but I have to go, I can't live here forever," Roran sighed, and tried to look as apologetic as he could as he sprung the unpleasant news on his younger cousin. "I'll be here until Spring anyway. We have all Winter together."

Eragon turned away from the table and left for his room without a word, hiding the mask of anger and sorrow that his face had become.

"You told me that he knew already." Garrow spoke quietly to Roran.

"Of course I hadn't. Because I knew this would happen. I was going to tell him eventually."

"Well, you should talk to him, since you should've told him weeks ago."

Roran groaned slightly, but he knew Garrow was right. He should've told Eragon the week, no, the moment after he knew. It was hard for him to remain happy knowing that it would've been the last few weeks he was spending with his cousin, outside the occasional visits he would make back to Carvahall. But he knew that it would never be the same. He got up from the table and slowly made his way over to the closed door that now hid his young cousin.

Roran knocked lightly on Eragon's door, receiving no answer in reply. He tried again and still got no answer. "Eragon... I was going to tell you about this, but you should know that I can't spend my entire life here."

"When? When were you going to tell me? The week you were leaving? A day before? The hour the cart pulled up to take you away? When Roran? When were you planning on telling me?" Eragon tried not to let his hurt show, but there was no stopping it. Roran and Garrow were the only family he had, and now he is forced to accept the fact that his family is breaking up.

"Eragon, I couldn't tell you. When was there a time to tell you?" Roran stood at the closed door, no answer coming in response. "Eragon?" Silence.

"Leave him be Roran. We can't go anywhere for a few days at least, he'll come around eventually." Garrow stood behind Roran. The old man guiding his son back towards the table to finish eating.

Eragon knelt on the floor, his face buried in his hands, leaning on the side of his bed. He had spent his entire life with his cousin, living together and tending to the family farm. But that part of his life was coming to an end. Roran was right, he knew this time was coming eventually. But to hear it coming at such a needy time, and to hear it from his uncle instead of his cousin didn't help the situation. And he was expected to take the news like it was nothing. To continue his life as normal for this time of year. Although normal for late Fall was to finish clearing the harvest, with the early snowfall there wasn't anything to be done, or to start doing. All he could do was wait.

Eragon reached under his bed and picked up the sapphire blue stone. Trying to clear his mind of the sad news, Eragon stared at the stone for a few moments, he ran his hands over the flawless surface a few times, the cold stone becoming warm to Eragon as he continued to rub it. Eragon still hadn't set his mind on whether or not to sell the stone for supplies, but the village story-teller had told him to hold on it. Let it never leave his sight. _What did he mean?_

Brom was known to speak in riddles to many, if not all of the young population within Carvahall. Eragon asked the old man about it once, he only said that it broadened the mind and opened the soul._ No doubt another riddle, _Eragon had thought to himself after such incident.

But if he did say it as a trick towards Eragon, then what would he have meant? What was the real reason he told him to hang onto it? It was all a little too complicated for Eragon to comprehend at that moment. But the thought had taken his mind away from his soon-to-be missing cousin. Eragon was sure that the old man wanted him to keep it a secret to everyone. But that was the only thing he could pick out from their conversation. Whether it be to keep it from his family, because of Garrow's obvious dislike towards magic, or, the entire world, because of its obvious assumed value. But there was still something about it that made Eragon feel different. More powerful. More useful. Just, more.

* * *

Weeks had passed and winter had 'officially' started, Eragon had slightly gotten over the news of his adoptive brother's soon departure, and the snowfall had continued without fail. It was only in light sheets, but it was just enough to make the ground an extra inch higher. Every day since Winter had started both Roran and Eragon would trek down their road and check to see if the traders had passed into town. It was the second week of Winter, and even if the traders had found delays, it would be unlikely that they would venture up towards Carvahall because of the snow. They had only just made it last year, and Garrow had asked around because of their tardiness, and every one of the merchants agreed that if it was any worse next year, it wouldn't be worth the effort to travel the distance up to Carvahall.

Fearing the worst, Garrow was reluctant to inform both Eragon and Roran of their misspent hopes, but it was better the traders just not show up, rather than hear it from him, since he knew all along that it was pointless to wait for them. Unfortunately, a trip into town would prove almost impossible with the conditions as they were. The small family of three would have to spread what they had far, and ration what they could for as long as possible.

There was a slump over the house, the seemingly impossible thought of the traders actually covering the dangerous roads between Therinsford and Carvahall became less and less likely as each day passed. There was nothing happening indoors to conserve energy, thus saving food. And boredom was the only feeling that managed to escape the two younger occupants of the small hut. Garrow always managed to busy himself with some form of chore or pet habit. Eragon and Roran, however, usually ran out of things to do before lunch. Which left the rest of the day to either talk about nothing, or spend time in their room.

Eragon spent the time in his room with the polished stone on his bed while he would sort through anything else he had collected over the years and re-arrange the small rocks and trinkets in a fashion that suited him for the time being. Because, no doubt, tomorrow he would have the same time to do the same thing over and over again. Occasionally he had heard noises outside his door, which caused him to jump onto his bed and cover the stone on the risks of someone else finding it, and asking of where it may've come from. Granted he was keeping its existence a secret from his family. But the wealth he might gain from it would go straight back into the family. Garrow would decide on what to do with the money after Eragon had delivered it to him. He wouldn't say how he got it, but it would've been 'like magic'.

The weeks passed by and the continual nothingness occupied most of the space in everyone's mind. Winter was drawing to a close and the sun had decided to show itself once more. Although its warming characteristics wouldn't start to take effect for another week or so, it was nice to be able to see the sun rise over the trees just after lunch. It quickly became routine and thus continued for the three. Eventually, there were droplets of water forming on the edge of the ceiling, indicating that outside would become reachable once more, other than to re-stock up the house for the week. Eating only one and a half meals a day took its toll on the three, but in the end they had survived the unforgiving cold and would start the season of Spring with high spirits. Much like last year.

The cold had passed, and the season of rebirth had began. Roran had packed his bags over winter and waited for the day of his work to begin. It could happen any day. And he was prepared for it. Although there was quite a bit he wanted to do in town before he left. He had wanted to do it before winter, while the traders were in town. But, as they had never showed up, there wouldn't be a chance for him to say anything to anyone that mattered to him. Not that there was anyone out there anyway.

And so the routine of every year began. Both Eragon and Roran would plough out the field, using as much of the area they had, while Garrow would follow behind the two planting the seeds he managed to collect and preserve over the previous year. Of course, there were many more seeds than he could fit, but, as usual, it was likely that some wouldn't grow, thus needing replacement before anything else happened.

* * *

The days dragged on, and the workload was as sudden as it was large. And as the sun fell on each day, did all three of the family members retire into the house. Eragon immediately retreated into his room, only coming out for some food and final words of the day. Otherwise he spent it sleeping, or, wondering what he could bargain for the stone. He had given it quite some thought over Winter, and although he didn't know much about bartering or pricing. Many times had he seen wares which was far out of his price range, and from the simple images of the past, he managed to assume that it was worth roughly triple anything he'd seen before. Just because of its sheer size. Although the weight would be something that brought it down in value because it was much lighter than it seemed. As if it was hollow. And Eragon had proved it many times just by giving it a slight tap every now and then.

The stone sat still on his bed, Eragon watching it intently. _This is our ticket to wealth. _He thought to himself. _No more back-breaking labour all day, every day. We deserve this after so many years._ Eragon flicked the edge of the stone with one of his fingers. The note was pure, as usual. But the pitch of which it was set had dropped slightly. Slightly confused. Eragon tapped it again, but in the centre. Once more, the note was significantly lower than any time days before it. Eragon shrugged it off. Yes, it was strange. But it was still valuable.

"Eragon! Supper's ready!"

Eragon heard Garrow's call and turned to leave his room, before pausing and turning back, forgetting to hide the stone. As Eragon took the single step back towards his bed, he stopped to gaze at the stone once more. _After so many years..._ He thought. Eragon reached out to the stone, but just before he touched it, another pure note emanated from the stone. He recoiled slightly. Baffled at how the stone sounded all by itself.

"Eragon, it's getting cold!"

He didn't have time to think about it. It was something for later. Eragon picked up the stone and hid it once more underneath his bed. Something wasn't right.


	3. Departure and Arrival

**Chapter 3:** **Departure, and Arrival**

* * *

Supper had been finished, and Eragon whisked himself away from the table not a moment later. Something wasn't right. It's not every day that a flawless hollow polished stone appears to you in the middle of a forest by magic. But it's even more uncommon when that same rock makes sounds all on its own. Eragon entered his room and immediately closed the door behind him, using his improvised locking method of standing a chair underneath the cross-beam. The worn floorboards had many dents that held the chair's feet securely.

Eragon dropped to his knees and immediately pulled the stone out from underneath his bed. He tried to pick it up the same way he had put it away, but the stone proved difficult to handle this time. Picking the stone up with both hands he placed it in the direct centre of his bed. _What is going on?_ He asked himself, staring at the flawless sapphire blue stone. _I know that there's something more to you._ Eragon picked up the stone once more. And, much like the time before last, the stone weighed significantly more than his previous attempt at moving it. _Something is happening to this stone... _He continued to think of the possibilities. _It's filling up with something, it must be because of the magic! Be transported empty, arrive full._ _But what is it filling up with? _The very prospect of the idea almost drove Eragon insane with greed. In his mind, anything from diamonds to gold was being generated inside the stone and from the only source that could explain it. Magic.

That then became his next port of call. If something went wrong that he, or his adoptive family couldn't explain, Eragon usually went to the next most informed person of that subject. If it was about crafting and metals, he would see Horst, the village blacksmith. Medicine or illness, Gertrude would always know the answer. But when it came to the unexplainable. Brom was his answer. As he laid back on the bed, the stone tucked securely against him, he tried to piece together just how to explain it to the old man.

* * *

"Eragon! Eragon wake up!" Garrow stood at Eragon's door the next morning, shouting through the wood to his asleep nephew. "The day has come. Roran is going, but I need you to go with him to Carvahall to help carry some of his things." Eragon groaned quietly to himself. He had dreaded this day since he first heard of it during winter.

Garrow had worked the two boys tirelessly over the past few days, tending to the fields and repairing and damage that had made itself known from Winter's harsh elements. Eragon rolled off his bed and dragged the stone out from underneath it. The stone had mysteriously stopped its weight gain since the previous day. He was just able to hold it up with one arm, but today was the day he was to find out exactly what was happening with it. He would see Brom and show him what had happened to the stone, and then try to get an explanation on what was happening with it.

Eragon quickly got dressed and slipped the stone into his pack, throwing it over his shoulder and exiting his room. The added weight was a little uncomfortable at first, but it wasn't anything he couldn't manage at the time. He stood at his door, staring across the room watching his cousin carry out the bags he'd filled over the past few weeks.

Eragon approached the nearest bag and slung it over his remaining shoulder and headed towards the door. Garrow was standing in Roran's doorway going through his final round of what he should and shouldn't do. Although it was a strange prospect for Eragon to have his life-long cousin and nearest ever relation to a brother to be there one day, and gone the next. An aura of disbelief shrouded Eragon, he had gotten so used to seeing his cousin that he would always be there the next day and the day after. But for him to go out one day, and never return for the next, wasn't something Eragon believed possible.

But, there wasn't anything he could do about it. As he sat on one of the three chairs outside the house he enjoyed the feeling of the final rest before the long trek into Carvahall. It would take just over an hour to get there, but when Roran had to leave was unknown. It could be hours, it could be minutes. It might not even be until the next day. But Eragon knew that he had his own matters to attend to. The magic stone that poked against his right side was starting to dig into his thigh.

The front-door to his home swung open, his cousin finding his way out the door for what would be the final time in what could be weeks, months, or even years. Much of the job was unknown, when he would get time off was impossible to tell. All they knew was that he was leaving, working as a miller, and would be in Therinsford by the end of the week.

A teary-eyed Garrow stood in the door-frame as Roran gave a short nod towards Eragon. The moment was a haze for Eragon. In between the final shouts of good luck from his uncle, and the near-broken image of his older cousin, Eragon wasn't sure of what he should think. He couldn't think about his cousin, someone had to be in good spirits. Eragon would see his cousin off to whomever it was he was going to work for, he would see Brom about the stone, how it was magically gaining weight and what he should do about it. So far, Eragon had followed the wise man's words and not spoken of it to anyone. He had kept it close to him, and never once, aside from when he'd first found it and this moment now, had the stone left his room. Eragon had always known where it was, and remained silent about it to everyone. He only wished that he knew how much it was worth. Although if it's weight had anything to do with it, it would be worth more than he could've ever imagined.

Both Eragon and Roran reached the main road and continued onwards towards Carvahall. The hour long trip started as any final moments with anyone you've lived with would. Silence.

Most of the trip was spent in silence, Roran refused to talk to Eragon because he was on the edge of breaking. And Eragon didn't want to speak to Roran because he knew his cousin was in a fragile state. But he had to tell somebody about the stone. Maybe Roran could come home after a few weeks because of the money the stone earned him. That was it! Roran never had to leave. The money he'd earn from the stone would allow his cousin to live at home for as long as he wanted.

"Roran," Eragon said quietly, gaining his cousin's attention immediately, as if wanting to savour the moment for what it was. Eragon stopped walking and flipped over the cover of his pack. "I should've shown you this sooner, but... I was thinking that, maybe, depending on how much money I could get for it, you wouldn't have to leave..."

"What are you talking about?" Roran protested. But as Eragon buried his hands into his pack, he pulled out the flawless sapphire stone. The moment Roran's eyes passed over the polished stone he was speechless. "Where did you find that?"

"In the spine. Last time I went hunting. It was the reason I didn't catch anything, so, I decided to take it instead." Eragon paused for a moment as he looked up the road, seeing the shape of someone coming back towards them. Eragon immediately hid the stone back in his bag, and continued walking down the road.

"Does uncle know?" Roran asked back.

"No, I was going to sell the stone then come back with whatever money I gained from it. He doesn't know anything about the stone, you are the first person I have ever shown it to."

"Won't he ask about where you got the money from?"

"Yes, but I won't tell him where it came from. He'll never know."

Both Eragon and Roran were happy to leave the conversation at that, as a shadowed figure came closer to them both. As the distance between the three closed, the figure continued to glance upwards towards the two boys. The cloaked figure kept his head down as he approached Eragon and Roran, and the moment he was within a few feet of them the cloaked stranger grabbed hold of Eragon's pack and tried to yank it free from his shoulder. As the frayed materials tightened the pack broke under the pressure, sending the bag's contents all over the ground. The stone as clear as day to whoever was to walk past. Eragon immediately shouted profanities towards the cloaked man, while Roran dropped his two bags and pulled a knife from his hip.

"I- I'm terribly sorry... I didn't mean to-" The man started. His voice was low and coarse.

"Pull back your hood!" Roran shouted at him. "Do it now!" He held the knife in-front of him, after his last talk with Eragon, he didn't want anything to go astray with the stone that would inevitably bring his family into riches.

"No... Now I'll just be on me-" The man tried to reason with Roran, but it was obvious that it was going no-where.

"Who are you?" Eragon asked, covering up the stone with the remains of his torn pack.

The cloaked figure sighed. He knew the two boys well and they would stop at nothing to know who he was, then report him to the authorities in Carvahall. "Alright. Fine." The man reached up both his hands, gripping at the edges of his hood, slowly pulling them back to reveal the old village story-teller. Brom. "Eragon, I need to talk to you about something that is of the gravest importance."

"What would that be? After you tried to steal the stone I came to you for advice on! It must be important if you want to take it from me!"

"Eragon, I need to talk to you alone."

Roran looked at Brom, then back to Eragon, then back towards Brom, unsure of how to proceed. Eragon glanced towards Roran and nodded for him to holster the weapon, pick up his bags, then continue down the road for about another hundred feet. Until he was out of earshot.

"What do you want to tell me?"

"Eragon, that stone! It is more magical than you think!"

"I was going to tell you the same thing!" Eragon brushed the remnants of his bag off the stone. Picking it up with some considerate effort. "Why is it this heavy?"

Brom reached out his hand to take the stone from Eragon, the moment he took the weight he almost dropped it, using his other hand to steady the stone. "That would explain why your bag broke when I tried to take it. But Eragon, I will not lie to you. This 'stone' means more to the whole of Alagaësia then you know. It is more than just a polished stone. But an egg."

Eragon took the stone back from the old story-teller and wrapped it in the remains of his old bag, placing it inside his second one. "Are you taking me as a fool? You want me to give it to you so that you can keep it for yourself!"

"No, Eragon, listen to me! That egg holds a-"

"I don't care! Just leave me alone Brom. Don't follow me into town, don't come back to my house, and don't try to take this from me again!" Eragon turned around and walked back to his cousin. "I will have you reported for attempted theft." His words flew coldly towards the once respected village elder.

"Check your pockets Eragon! I never wanted anything like this to happen!" Brom shouted back to him, only to be ignored.

Eragon resumed his final walk with his cousin in silence. Roran asked more than once about what Brom had said or why he'd tried to take the egg. But Eragon remained silent. He didn't mean to be so rude to his cousin, but he was in no mood to talk about what had just transpired. Eragon would spend the day in the city, purchasing a new pack immediately on arrival because the secondary bag carried Roran's excess equipment and clothes.

The moment both Eragon and Roran entered Carvahall, Roran's employer picked him out immediately and took him away from Eragon. A few heart-felt words were exchanged between the two, but Roran had to leave almost immediately.

Eragon carried the stone wrapped in the tattered remains of his pack, heading straight to the village tailor's home. Eragon browsed the wares and decided on one that looked exactly like the one that was broken, so Garrow would be none the wiser, Eragon picked up the pack and took it to the counter.

"That will be two silvers." The man said.

"Is it possible to make an exchange? My pack broke on the way here, so-"

"Ah, yes... Of course. I can take your old one and use it for spare materials, then it would only cost one silver."

Eragon cursed silently under his breath. He batted his pockets to see if he brought any money with him, finding that one of his pockets did indeed have coin in it. He felt inside his pocket, finding that there was at least ten coins in his pocket. _I don't ever remember having..._ He paused for a moment, remembering Brom's words. _'check your pockets'..._ Eragon pulled out all of the coins from his pocket, finding that he held twelve gold coins without even knowing it.

"Hey, you don't need to wave your money around here..." The shopkeeper found Eragon having so much money almost disturbing. "Where did a lad like you come across so much wealth?"

Eragon stopped, trying to think of an excuse. "I brought it from home..."

"Wait. You're Eragon aren't you... Garrowson? How did he come across so much coin without the traders?"

"I- I don't know..." Eragon stammered, trying to think of an excuse that could at least cover some level of the money.

Not a moment later did the old story-teller barge through the door. "Eragon, I found you!"

"Leave me alone! I don't have anything to say to you."

"Then let me help you now." He took a step closer to the shopkeeper. "I leant him the money." A moment after the old man spoke; he waved his hand and muttered something under his breath.

"Thank you sir. Have a nice day..." The tailor took one gold coin and exchanged it with nine silvers. Brom quickly scooped up the money and headed out the door, pulling Eragon along with him.

"Now, you need to listen to me." Brom had dragged Eragon out of the store and into an alley. "That stone is more than a mere rock."

"You tried to tell me this outside the city, why should I believe you now?"

"How do you think I managed to give you twelve gold coins without you even noticing... How do you even think I got that much money? How do you think that shopkeeper just let you waltz out here like nothing ever happened?" Eragon went deep into thought. Many things could've answered those questions. Brom was a storyteller. He could've done so for money and collected that much over quite a long time. When he tried to take Eragon's bag his shoulder was jerked around, he could've slipped anything into his pockets at the time. And the shopkeeper believed every word of the old man, changing from suspicious to co-operative immediately.

"I don't know..."

"Magic, Eragon! Do you want me to prove it to you now?" Brom started walking away from Eragon, signalling for him to follow. Eventually reaching the old man's home. He quickly opened the door and allowed Eragon to enter once more, closing it securely behind him.

"Now, what I am about to show you, you must never tell anyone about it." He pointed towards his pot, fresh wood was stored underneath it in preparation for the night's meal. "Watch, closely Eragon." Brom pointed towards the wood and closed his eyes. "_Brisingr."_ Not a moment after he finished the word a small spark lit the wood and a fire started.

"Now, Eragon. You must believe me when I tell you this... That stone isn't just a regular rock. But an egg. A _dragon_ egg."

"Ok, now you've lost it."

"Eragon, listen to me!"

"No! This can't be happening! You can't tell me what is, and isn't right. You can't explain something as simple as fire as magic! And this certainly isn't going to hatch a dragon!" Eragon pointed towards his new pack to further his point. "I thank you for the bag, which you had destroyed in the first place, but I don't want or need anything from you."

Eragon stormed out of the door and slammed it shut as he walked straight towards home. Brom didn't bother to follow Eragon, he knew that he would come around. All he needed was the right moment. _The day that egg hatches will be the day he'll listen to me._ Brom thought to himself, sensing out with his mind towards Eragon and the egg. _I tried to tell you Eragon, but you will be one with her sooner than you wish._ He muttered one last spell that would send the remaining coins from the shop into Eragon's pack. _Garrow will need all of it for when you're gone._

* * *

Eragon made his way home without another distraction. Arriving back home just before sunset. He ate supper in silence, already starting to feel the emptiness without his cousin. Garrow knew that Eragon wasn't himself during supper, so he let him off of any duties that were required after supper.

Immediately going to his room, Eragon emptied his pack, setting the stone on his bed, and finding the remaining eleven gold coins in his pack. _He must've slipped them in before I left..._ Night came quickly, and Eragon lay down on his bed, the stone sitting on his table several feet away, just out of arms-reach.

Eragon lay on his bed in silence, watching the trees sway outside his window. There was what sounded like a tap at his door. Eragon immediately sat up and looked at his door, seeing nothing but the darkness of the house. He lay back down, only to hear another noise, louder than last time, but he couldn't quite tell where it was coming from.

Thinking that he was hearing things, Eragon rolled over and tried to go to sleep. The third tap he ignored completely, and the fourth also went uninterested. Eragon's table shook slightly, the stone rolling towards an edge. He got up again and looked at his table, the wooden structure was old and warn. _Don't tell me I need to make a new one of those too..._ He complained to his mind. Eragon rolled back over, knowing what was making the noise at the time anyway. But it was when he heard a pure note when he knew what was happening.

He immediately flipped over and sat on the edge of his bed. The sapphire stone teetering on the edge of the table. Eragon failed to notice this, wondering why the stone was making noises again. A few moments passed where nothing happened. Then one final note was sounded, before the stone tipped off the edge of the table and fell to the floor.

Eragon jumped to his feet, almost shouting regrets in the process. But as the stone reached the ground, it didn't make another pure note as before. The rock shattered into hundreds of pieces, littering his floor with the mess. But it wasn't the mess that held Eragon's eye. It was the small sapphire blue coloured creature that rolled on its back that kept him staring.

Once the small creature made it to its feet, it opened its mouth and made a slight chirping noise. Eragon immediately wanted it to be quiet, not wanting his uncle to be awoken, Eragon reached forward with his right hand to cover the thing's mouth. The moment he made contact with the creature, he was hit by a wave of pain, the shock sending him back onto his bed, knocked out completely from the action.

When he awoke - or at least thought he did - there was nothing but blackness as far as he could see. Or...not see. "Where am I?" he shouted into the darkenss. He seemed to be able to see for miles, but the only thing visible was black. There was a sharp flash of blue lightning that sturk the ground several feet before him.

'_Eragon, I have chosen for you to be my rider. But this is just the beginning of a change that could mean more than time itself. Ever since the first day of our bond with the humans and the elves, our riders have chosen to fly with us, or astride us.'_

"W- who are you? What are you saying?" Eragon looked around, trying to find something tanginble to connect to the voice.

'_Make your choice Eragon. I have the power to change you into something as powerful as I will be. Make your choice, pick a side. I will not wait forever.'_

"I- I don't understand! Where are you?" There was several moments silence as Eragon stood in the clear darkness. "What are you saying?"

'_Then I shall decide for you. Because my race is few and far-spread, you will become one with me.'_

"What? But I don't even know who you are!"

'_Eragon, eka taka eom ono du líf abr aí skulblaka." _Eragn felt the darkness press in around him, and his eyes grew heavy. The last thing he remembered was w warm feeling washing over him like a wave, before it settled in his chest.


	4. Surprise Visit

**Chapter 4:** **Surprise** **Visit**

* * *

Eragon awoke with a start, his breathing coming in ragged gulps as he tried to clear his head of the strange dream. After a moment of just breathing, Eragon noticed the sun streaming into his eyes, which explained why it was so hard to see. Forcing himself to sit up, Eragon shook his head quickly, rubbing his eyes, trying to gain some form of composure. He tried to remember what happened last night. How the money appeared, where it came from, the noise the stone made… The stone! Eragon immediately searched the table where he left it finding the place empty. Remembering what had happened the stone had fallen. So he searched the ground, finding that clear of any remnants of the stone's breakage.

_Chirp!_ Eragon looked down between his legs, finding a blue lizard staring back at him. But it had wings… And it was almost the size of his calf… It chirped again and Eragon backed away from it, slipping off his bed in the process. He landed heavily on the wooden floor, having hit the back of his head in the process. Eragon rubbed the back of his head with his right hand, but it felt, strange. Like there was a lump on his head.

Eragon rubbed his fingers into the pain, feeling for any blood, but when he looked at his palm there was something much worse. Covering almost his entire palm was a circular scar, deep blue in colouring. _This is not happening, this can't be happening._ The creature chirped again, but this time, Eragon just sat still, the events of last night shooting into the front of his mind like a speeding arrow. The stone, the lizard, the dream; everything! Eragon was frozen in fear, there was nothing he could do.

_Chirp!_ The sapphire blue lizard jumped off the bed, using its wings to glide to the ground, causing Eragon to cower in the corner. If it was capable of marking him in such a way, just from a single touch, Eragon wanted nothing to do with it. The winged-lizard moved closer to Eragon, its body swayed under from movement. Eragon stood in the corner, scrambling to get away from it. The creature lowered its head, it tail twinged from side-to-side. Eragon lifted one foot off the ground, holding it between himself and the creature. Hearing a scuttle to his right, Eragon glanced towards the noise, only to see the winged-lizard jump over a pile of rocks and hay pouncing towards the noise. There was a slight squeal as the lizard landed, but Eragon paid it no mind. He knew it was distracted from him, so, Eragon left his room quickly and locked the door, putting on his gloves to hide the scar. When his uncle went out to start the day's work, Eragon would dispose of the _thing_ and pretend it never happened in the first place.

"Did anything happen last night Eragon?" Garrow asked, startling Eragon as his uncle tended to breakfast over the stove. "I heard you say something, almost made me think you weren't alone in there."

Eragon tensed, his hands were cramped in the leather gloves. He had used them over winter to keep his hands warm, but they also shrunk during the season, as they always did every winter. "I- I just had a bad dream." Hoping the lie would be enough to make Garrow drop the issue.

"I know what this is about." Garrow turned around from the stove, and sat down at the table across from Eragon. "And I went through it too when it happened to me."

Eragon gained a confused look. This happened to his uncle? No way!

"When my older brother left the house I too was worried about him," Garrow said in a sombre tone. "Stayed up the entire week not knowing if it was a dream or if he was going to be back the next day…"

Eragon let out a sigh of relief.

"Your time will come too, then I'll have to sell the farm and move into town. But you still have two years ahead of you now." Garrow stood back up and continued cooking the food. "Either way, I have to go into Carvahall today, Winter has left us short-stocked and there isn't any food for tomorrow unless I go."

Eragon was overjoyed to hear that they were going into Carvahall again. Now he knew he _had _to speak to old Brom. The old man had been right...at least about the stone actually being an egg. Maybe he could finally get some straight answers from the man. "Perfect, I'll just-"

"No, you're staying here." Garrow immediately replied without waiting. "I need you to keep clearing the snow."

"But-"

"No buts Eragon. Your chores are more important than going into town and wasting your, and the rest of the people's time." Garrow scooped out some contents of the pot, placing it in a bowl, handing it, and a spoon to Eragon across the table. "Besides, you went in yesterday, what else could you possibly need to do?"

Eragon stopped for a moment, now that he thought of it, he almost did have to go into town, since Brom seemed to know what the stone, or more likely now, egg _was_. So he must know what the creature actually _is_. "I just hate being stuck here with no-one else around. If Roran was here I wouldn't object, but-"

"I know Eragon. But this is all a part of growing up. You need to learn the daily going-ons around here so you can one-day do the same in several years and raise a family of your own." Garrow scooped out some food for himself and sat down across from Eragon as he had done before. "You'll be out of here sooner than you think. It's only a matter of time."

The two ate their meal wordlessly, and immediately after finishing Garrow went into his room, and returned moments later with his empty pack and coin-pouch, laying them both on the table, examining them both for any signs of breakage.

After seeing Garrow's coin-pouch, Eragon immediately remembered the gold Brom had given him. After entering his room, Eragon found the winged-lizard asleep on the end of his bed, laying in the sun with its wings spread-out on either side of it. Soundlessly reaching onto his dresser, Eragon picked up the coins and immediately placed them in his pockets, hoping not to wake the _thing_ and left the room. Closing the door behind him Eragon tried to devise an excuse that would explain where he got the money, however, was going to be harder than his original thought.

Deciding it would be easier to slip his uncle one coin at a time, Eragon placed one gold crown on the table in-front of him, immediately garnering the attention of Garrow. "Where did you get that?" The single gold coin danced with the pattern of the flames, the morning light still quite dim outside.

"I found it on the road yesterday." He lied, for the second time that morning.

Garrow stared hard into Eragon's eyes, seemingly unsure on if it was the truth. "Was Roran with you?"

"No, I found it on the way back."

"How is it so clean if you found it on the road?"

"It wasn't when I found it, on first sight I thought it was bronze, it was that muddy… But I washed it, and couldn't believe my luck!"

Garrow picked up the coin and stared between him and Eragon. "I guess we are lucky. With this alone we could feed ourselves for a week!" Eragon let out a silent breath, reminding himself to not warrant any extra attention from Garrow as it was two lies in one morning he'd gotten away with. His uncle immediately put the coin in the small pouch, shouldered his pack, then went for the door. "I should be back before sundown, if not, then start the fire. You'll need the warmth." Waving behind himself, Garrow stepped out the door and let it swing shut on its own accord. Leaving Eragon alone in the house with the winged-lizard.

Eragon moved to the front-door, waited until his uncle was out of sight, then waited at least ten minutes more, just to make sure he was gone for the day. Eragon opened the door, then propped it open with the shovel he was going to use for most of the day. He glanced over the snow-covered landscape. Most of it was already clear of the white, there was almost nothing more for him to do! Eragon cursed under his breath, but thought less of it, since that left him the rest of the day to do nothing.

Leaving the front-door open, Eragon turned back to his room, and checked to see where the winged-lizard was. He saw it still asleep in the sun on his bed. _It looks so peaceful._ He thought to himself. _No, it attacked me, and I can't let it stay, _Eragon's focus determined. _But maybe I'll leave it until I'm finished work._

Turned away from his room, Eragon stepped outside, picking up the shovel along the way, and started clearing the snow on the far-side of the barn.

* * *

Three hours passed, and Eragon had finished his duty. It was still morning, if not only just, so, he had the rest of the day to do as he wished. The first plan, though, was to remove the lizard in his room.

Entering the house, and wedging the door open as he had done before, Eragon entered his room, and found the blue creature sitting on his bed-post. The creature immediately jumped off the post, and glided to the floor, almost excited to see Eragon again. Thankful that he was wearing shoes, Eragon put his foot out, stopping the lizard's advances towards him. It looked up at him with bright, blue eyes, as if hoping for attention. _For something so dangerous, it certainly knows how to act innocent, _he mumbled. Eragon tucked his foot underneath him, and moved to a low-crouch. _At least I'm wearing gloves so it can't cut me again._ Eragon was still unsure how long the blue mark on his hand would last, hopefully no longer than a week.

Reaching out with one hand, Eragon grabbed the lizard around its midsection, clamping over its wings and keeping his other hand out of reach from the lizard's long neck and mouth.

The creature made a squealing noise as Eragon picked it up, but he paid it no mind. Intent on removing of the thing now, and never thinking about it again. Moving outside, the screeching continued, making Eragon's ears burn after a while. But, eventually, Eragon had made it behind the house, where Garrow made all of the families kills, and tied the leather collar around the lizard's neck. The collar itself was less than four foot long, and tied to a steak in the ground. After it had made contact with the ground, the lizard stopped making noise, letting Eragon's ears take a rest again.

Eragon was yet to have to make a kill in this fashion. He hated this kind of slaughter. At least when he caught a deer it had as much chance to escape as he did killing it. Reaching for the axe that was used for both the _slaughter_ and wood-chopping, Eragon tested its weight and righted himself with the target. He took a deep breath, and saw the lizard was staring at him. The blue of its eyes told more of a story than anything Eragon had ever heard. It was unnatural, and full of life. _No, can't get distracted._ Putting the axe-head between him and the lizard, Eragon closed his eyes, lifting the axe above his head, he took a deep breath. He began the down-swing with little force, he knew that it wouldn't take much to kill the lizard, it had only hatched- _No!_

Eragon stopped, and whipped the axe away flinging it just under a dozen feet. _It had _hatched. _It _was _an egg! Brom was right! But how-_

"Eragon!" He heard a shout from in-front of the house. "Eragon! Where are you?" Eragon turned away from the lizard, unsure what to think now, moving to the front of the house, he saw exactly who he needed to right now. "Ah! There you are! I saw Garrow in town and thought that-"

"It happened!" Eragon was almost panic stricken. He was shocked at first to see something come out of the stone, but only then had he realised that what Brom had told him was right.

"What happened Eragon?"

"It happened! What you said! It's an egg! You told me it was!"

"Calm down." Brom pressed his hand down on Eragon's head, trying to stop him from moving. "What happened." A sharp _Chirp_ sounded from behind the house. Brom looked at Eragon, then grabbed onto the boy's hands, noticing the gloves too small for him, and under the edge of his right glove was a deep blue matching in colour to the egg. "It hatched for you, didn't it?" Eragon nodded quickly. "Where is she?"

Eragon turned away from Brom and went behind the house. There was a screeching noise and Eragon carried the lizard out from behind the house across its midsection again. Placing the blue creature on the ground, and thus silencing it, Eragon noticed that it sniffed at the grass, and started wandering off towards the crops. "What is it?"

"_She_," He began, "is a dragon. "And one of the very last of her species."

_A dragon! _Eragon thought to himself. _But why would someone send a dragon to the Spine?_ Eragon repeated his question out-loud.

"That, I can't say, for reasons you will understand later. Now, tell me, this happened last night, yes?"

"Yes."

"What did she say to you when you first touched her?"

Eragon thought for a moment, He had no idea, he couldn't remember. The creature - dragon - surely couldn't speak...could it? "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know, you _must_ know!"

"I don't know! I can't remember! It happened so fast, I didn't know what was going on!"

Brom looked towards the dragon, watching it lay down between the divots of the earth, fitting snugly between them. "Did you at least catch her name?"

"It has a name?" Eragon glanced towards the dragon, which turned its neck around to look the other way, despite its body facing him.

Brom sighed heavily. "Eragon, listen to me, and listen well. What you have lying in your farm over there, is more important than _every single_ person living within all of Palancar Valley." Brom poked Eragon in the chest to emphasize his point. The old man paused for a moment, and closed his eyes, Eragon felt the memory of last night spring to the front of his mind, and then disappear just as quickly. "Saphira is her name." The blue dragon whipped its head around at the sound of her name. "And _you_ are going to become one of her race."

"What?" Of all the things he expected to hear, that was certainly one of the last.

"Listen to me Eragon, _you _are going to become a dragon because you didn't choose what you wanted when she asked you."

"What do you mean I didn't choose? There was no choice!" Eragon felt his mind race. What choice?

"That's why I keep telling you to listen Eragon! Listen to everything I say, and listen well. You're wondering why you have a blue mark on your palm, yes? Well, from that one mark, your very being will change to look almost exactly as she does."

Eragon pushed Brom away. It was too much, he didn't believe a word of it. He turned around to face the old man. "Where are you making this up?"

"Don't you believe me? Eragon, you _must_ understand what this means. You are now the _most important_ being within the entire land! Within a month, you will become a dragon, and then you and Saphira will be the most sought-after beings in all of Alagaësia!" He stepped closer to Eragon, lowering his voice. "Saphira is the last female dragon within the entire land Eragon. If she dies, so does the entire dragon race."

"But I don't want to become a dragon! I never wanted her to begin with!"

"We never get what we want Eragon. She _chose_ you, and you should feel incredibly lucky to have even seen her. This isn't something to be taken lightly Eragon. Believe me or not, your life will never be the same. And if I were you, I would prepare to leave this place. Because within a week, Garrow is going to notice that your arms are turning blue."

"A week? I don't have a week! I can't leave him now! He just lost Roran, how am I going to leave within a week?"

"You don't have a choice Eragon. I will help you get out of here if you want, but if you don't there are some things that not even the elves can fix."

"You know of elves?"

"I know a great many things Eragon. It would be wise of you to listen to me, and accept what must be done. Or, you can stay here, remain ignorant to what will happen, then get driven away by everyone you loved or cared about because you're _not human."_ Brom turned around and started walking away from the house. "I will return in five days to hear your choice Eragon. By then both your hands should be entirely scaled over and blue, your fingers would've started ebbing together into four separate claws. Your feet will have the same appearance as your hands, and your hair will start falling out. Thus is the road you walk Eragon. If you follow it, great things will come, if not, you'll be dragged along whether you like to or not. Saphira will remain concealable in your room for this week, and this week only, spend as much time as you can with her, she needs the attention."

"What if you're wrong?"

"Find out for yourself Eragon. Five days, and we'll see what you believe."

Eragon fell back into the dirt, stunned. What has happening to the world? As he stared into the distance, wathcing Brom walk up the road, he failed to notice the small dragon waddle up next to him. It gave a small, chirping noise, but Eragon's focus was elsewhere. Unbidden, the hatchling wiggled its head under his hand, as if asking for attention.

Without realizing it, the boy began to rub along her head.


	5. The End of Normal

**Chapter 5:** **The End of Normal**

* * *

It had been four days since Brom's arrival at his farm, and Eragon was far beyond convinced that _something_ was indeed happening to him.

Almost his entire right hand had turned blue, his skin had started to peel off his palms and his finger-nails had, as the old man said, grew at an alarming rate, changing in shape to curl back underneath towards his palms. The same changes were occurring on Eragon's feet, although he never noticed them as much as his hands. Walking became different, as Eragon was forced to adapt to the new way his feet felt.

Saphira - for he had now accepted the creature was a dragon with a name - had almost doubled in size. Her wings had turned almost purple with the amount of blood that was fueling the young dragon's growth. Whenever Eragon was too close to her, or had spent too much time with her alone, he started gaining senses that were not his own. He almost constantly wanted to eat, his mind raced to many conclusions as to what was happening, but acquitted it towards the physical changes that were happening. Yet, whenever he ate a meal and played with Saphira, he felt the urge to lay down outside on the grass in the mid-day sun. Once or twice he gave in to the urges, and the young Saphira immediately curled up on his chest and slept. Those moments spent together triggered something within Eragon. He was still beyond confused as to why she was here, why she had chosen him, and what was happening to him. And yet, simply spending time with the mysterious creature was slowly becoming more and more ideal. As if...something was pulling him towards her.

Of course, Eragon didn't always have the time to play with Saphira. In between weeding out the vegetables and taking care of the animals, Eragon's free time turned into walking around the surrounding forest with Saphira perched on his shoulder like a trained eagle scouting for prey. Once he had tried to carry her, like before, but the sounds of displeasure she made and the sensations Eragon felt in his head drive him to abandon that idea. Her added weight normally would've caused Eragon discomfort, but, along with the visible changes to his hands and feet, his strength seemed to have increased in the short time since his contact with Saphira. _Just what is happening to me? _he wondered.

Despite everything common sense had taught him. Eragon had no choice but to admit that Brom was right. That, as unlikely as it was, he was being transformed. But that prospect itself scared Eragon. Would he remember everything that he'd done? Would he still know who he was? How will he hide these changes from his uncle? And more so than others, how did Brom know what was happening to him? There were hundreds of questions whirling around in Eragon's mind, along with the sudden urge to eat something.

Saphira then jumped off Eragon's shoulder and glided to the ground. Eragon continued walking, having Saphira follow beside him, she looked around constantly, as if searching. The two continued walking for a short while until Eragon found a tree teeming with growth from the first few weeks of spring, and sat against it. Saphira stalked around the tree for a moment, surveying the loose bark on the flesh of the tree, then started climbing. Eragon watched with amazement how Saphira stretched her forepaws as far as they'd reach, then pulled herself up, and dug her hind-claws into the tree to steady herself, inching up towards the branches. Eragon jolted upright seeing her slip almost ten feet up the tree, but Saphira always righted herself with a flail of her wings or by jabbing her tail against the tree. Settling back down, he tried to ignore the odd sense of protectiveness he now felt, watching this young dragon explore.

Coming to the conclusion that she wasn't going to fall, Eragon sat back down and watched the young dragon leap from branch-to-branch up the tree, eventually going out of sight. Waiting at the base of the tree, Eragon assumed that Saphira was just climbing for fun, or to get a view of the landscape. But, after about five minutes of waiting Saphira came floating down the outside of the tree, coming to a land just before Eragon's feet, tufts of feathers stuck to the outside of her jaw. In his mind, he felt a sense of fullfilment, as if a need had been taken care of.

Eragon watched as Saphira tried to clean off the feathers with her tongue, but to no avail. Reaching out, Eragon grabbed Saphira and pulled the feathers from her face, scratching Saphira under her chin and down her chest. Saphira almost fell into his lap when he started scratching her, an oddly pleasant humming echoing from her small frame. He had tried doing this several days ago, but found her scales too hard for his fingers. But, with the changes happening to his body, his finger-nails had become much harder and longer. Although this proved quite a hindrance when he washed or tried to put on his gloves, as they were tearing from his scaled palms, it helped him get closer to Saphira, which was what Eragon was required to do. Since he had relinquished all possible ideas to explain why his body was changing in such a way.

Eragon finally accepted the fact - he was becoming a dragon.

As he continued petting the young dragon, Saphira rolled onto her back in Eragon's lap, allowing him to scratch her belly, which bulged at the sides from the bird she'd just eaten. Her humming increased as she wriggled slightly, clearly enjoying the contact. Again, Eragon felt something brush against his mind, only this time it echoed with a feeling of contentment. For whatever reason, he found himself smiling down at her. The young dragon chirped happily, gazing back up at him with her clear blue eyes.

While continuing to scratch Saphira, Eragon tried to think back to how Brom knew her name, or the fact that she was a girl at all. Brom had only seen at her for a minute at most. Eragon moved his right hand away, continuing to scratch Saphira with his left, he reached down to her hind-legs and parted them slightly. A low growl came from Saphira, but she didn't move, enjoying the scratches she was receiving on her belly. Eragon studied the scales between her hind legs, but couldn't make out any distinguishing features. The scales were rougher and less-developed on Saphira's underside, which made it hard to tell if one particular ridge was meant to exist, or if it hadn't been formed yet. With a sigh, he removed his right hand and scratched the base of her neck, which caused Saphira to let out another growl, but there was no warning in the pitch, she obviously enjoyed his ministrations. Resigning himself to just accepting the old man's words, Eragon sat with Saphira until the sun was about to set, before heading back to the farm, getting Saphira into his room through the window, then entering through the front door just before supper.

* * *

The fifth, and final day before Brom's return went by faster than the previous four. Much to Eragon's satisfaction anyway, because that meant he could ask more questions, and get some much needed answers. Eragon was sure to spend his time away from the house towards the main road, so that he would be sure to see Brom approaching, and Garrow would be none-the-wiser as to his whereabouts, as long as Eragon started off into the forest behind the house, his uncle wouldn't worry any more than usual.

Just sitting at the fork-in-the-road which separated his house from the main road into Carvahall, Eragon continued scratching Saphira as he had the previous day, much to her satisfaction. A great feeling of warmth spread throughout Eragon despite the winter cold hanging on the wisps of wind that carried loose flakes of snow off the ground and further south along the road. Almost once every hour a tree would loose thick blankets of snow off to the ground, but never did it cause Eragon to take cover from the particular tree he sat at.

Almost four hours had passed since Eragon had stationed himself at the road, the sun was low in the air, and nearing the horizon, if the old man didn't arrive soon, Eragon would have to risk Brom approaching the house, which would prove quite difficult. But, much to his satisfaction, before the sun reached the horizon, the old man hobbled down the road with a staff in his left hand, aiding the old man in his brisk walk. Eragon flagged him over, and immediately moved behind the first few rows of trees to remain out of sight. Once the old man arrived, would the questions begin.

"You need new gloves." Brom started, seeing the torn leather barely concealing Eragon's palms. The old man dropped a bag onto the ground, and kicked it towards Eragon. "You should find some supplies you will need in there. And I hope you've prepared to leave within two days."

Eragon knelt down towards the pack, but stopped at the old man's final words. "Two days? How will I convince Garrow to let me go? Where will we go? What will we do?" Returning himself to a standing position, Eragon lifted Saphira onto his shoulder, the dragon immediately returning to a seated position. "How do you know what is happening to me anyway? I need some answers!"

"And you will get them, but for now, we need to plan your disappearance."

"So I'm just going to leave then?"

"No, that would be too suspicious. We need you to _die_."

"You're completely mad!" Eragon took a step back, drawing his knife from its sheath. "And I suppose you're going to try?"

"Eragon, I don't mean it like that, _think_!" Brom stopped and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Garrow won't let you just leave, and we both know it. How long have you been spending out of the house for the past week?"

Eragon kept his weapon ready, trying to understand what the old man was trying to say. "Most of the day, although it's getting harder to-"

"Good, we can use that. It's going to look like an accident, that you've been attacked by a pack of wolves from the forest."

Finally understanding the old man, Eragon sheathed his blade, but always kept his hand near the handle. "Why do we have to leave anyway?"

"Because you're changing, my boy. And we can't keep that hidden from everyone, can we?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing. Do you think you can keep it up for much longer? Look at her! If you had her sitting on your shoulder while you were normal it'd damn near cripple you! Look at your arms boy! They've grown at least an inch around at your forearms alone. And your legs are the same!" Eragon glanced across his body. Brom was right, he was changing at an alarming rate. "If you want to stay here, that's fine, but no-one, and I mean _no-one_ will believe you are the same Eragon Garrowsson as before. That is why I am here. I can explain to you what is happening, I will know who you are, I will know what to do. And all I need from you, is your attention."

"Then how do you know this? How do you know what is happening?" Eragon reluctantly asked.

"That is for another time, but I need to know _now_. Are you willing to come with me away from Carvahall?"

Eragon never thought about it this much before, there was so much that he needed answered, so much more that he wanted to ask. Could he leave Carvahall and become –of all things- a dragon? Did he have a choice? "Why me?" He asked out loud.

"Because Saphira chose you. She saw deep in your heart who you truly are. And when she can talk, I'm sure her choice will explain itself."

"She can talk? How?"

"With her mind. And it is a skill you will learn if we are to journey together."

"So why can't she talk now?" Saphira swung her neck around to look Eragon in the eye, chirping once. A wisp of doubt flared in his mind, but left just as quickly.

"Saphira has been talking to you the entire time, I bet. Surely you've noticed a feeling, an emotion, a _sensation_ that wasn't yours? Have you felt hungry after you've just eaten? Do you feel warmer when she's contented? You are both linked in a way more complex and confusing than the elves or the dwarves." Eragon looked at the dragon on his shoulder. She chirped once more, but otherwise held her position. Once Eragon straightened his head, she leaned against his ear with her wing. "I can tell by looking at her now that you two have become quite close. That will help in the future."

"Can she speak?"

"I just told you-"

"With words, I mean."

Brom leaned up against a tree. "That comes with age. But she'll talk much sooner than you would've, given the same time to grow."

The two stood in silence for a moment, Eragon trying to make sense of the situation, and Brom, just staring aimlessly off into the distance. "If I choose to go with you, where will we go?"

"Ah, finally a question of meaning" Eragon frowned, but made no reaction. "We would have to try and find shelter from anyone who would mean you harm. Which leaves us with very few options. However, we aren't without hope. We could either go to the Boer Mountains, from which we will find shelter in the Varden. Or we could venture into the forests of Du Weldenvarden, where we will find the elves. The third, and final option, is if we were to hide out here in the spine for a while until your both strong enough to fly, then, we will move out to one of those locations."

"The obvious choice would be to go to the elves. They're the closest."

"Aye, that is true. But I'm not sure they'll take too kindly to us. The elves haven't been seen outside the forest for over a century."

"Is there anywhere else we can go?"

"Not unless you want to walk right into Galbatorix and the empire." Eragon pondered the thought, reaching up with one hand to scratch Saphira on her chest again. "And that, would be suicide. Galbatorix would do anything to capture you both. As she is the last female dragon alive, and you are to become one of her race. He would _use_ you and her to create an army of dragons and riders to take complete control of Alagaësia. What you should come to accept naturally would be forced, and you both would be trapped within the castle, with no freedom, and no will other than to serve."

"As long as no-one harms us I don-"

"You would be forced to swear loyalty to the king Eragon. He would control your mind and body, bending your wills into those of his own. You would no longer be yourself Eragon. A twisted creation of power and corruption Galbatorix is, and if you have any form of respect for yourself or Saphira, you wouldn't even consider going there." Brom pushed himself off the tree, looking out over the road, twilight surrounded the landscape. "I will return in two days. Spend as much time as you can with Garrow and leave Saphira in the woods. If you tell her to stay, she will, but see her in the morning before sunup. Be prepared to leave Eragon. By the end of the second day take your bow and two sets of clothes with you into the woods. And Eragon, you can't let Garrow know you're leaving. It's better for him to _believe_ you're dead, than a dragon. At least this way, there is a reason you're gone."

"But I can't just leave him here! Garrow can't care for the farm himself!"

"Yes Eragon. I know, but we don't have much choice! If Roran was here he'd tend to the farm, but Saphira chose you, now, and we don't have any other options."

"He can come with us!"

"No he can't! Eragon, your uncle would come back here and tell everyone what he's seen. The rest of the village would think he's mad, but come searching for you because you would be missing!"

"What about you then? Won't people notice you're gone?"

"My fate will be the same as yours Eragon. A poorly-built fire by a drunk old man will be the death of him, and his hut. I am leaving everything behind for you Eragon, and you'd be wise to remember that! I'm risking my life to help you with yours! All because _you_ are the _only_ hope for anyone who wishes for a free life." Eragon lowered his gaze. The old man's words were strong, and Eragon couldn't think of any way to reply. "Besides, Garrow will be fine, as long as you leave the other coins I gave you."

"How did you-"

"Magic, Eragon. And I will explain myself fully in the journey to come. Now, I _must_ know this very second. Do you agree to come with me?"

Eragon wasn't sure what to say. He'd have to surrender his life on the farm, just because Saphira had chosen him. He didn't want to go, Eragon wished that he could've just given Brom the stone to begin with. Which would've left Eragon to his own life on the farm, just like anyone else in Palancar valley. But he was chosen by Saphira, he was in the right place, at the wrong time. And just because the stone appeared when he was around, his life would never be the same. It pained Eragon to say it, but he had no choice. Brom was speaking the truth with everything. About his changes, about Saphira, about the stone. Eragon was frightened. If Brom knew all about magic, dragons, elves and dwarves, then how did he know all this? There were always too many questions, and not enough time.

Eragon took a deep breath, wishing that there was another choice. "I'll go." He murmured under his breath.

"Then prepare, Eragon. Inside that pack you'll find a new pair of gloves to help hide your hands, a new pair of boots too, since the soles of your feet should be covered in scales too. And various other things, that will help conceal your _changes_ for the next few days. Just be wary Eragon, Garrow might notice that your body has grown, but we must hope that he doesn't think too much of it." Brom turned around and started down the road. "Saphira can use the pack to sleep in for tonight and tomorrow, leave it for her, she'll understand."

Eragon turned away from the road, walking around his farm on the outskirts of the forest. _But I don't want to leave._


	6. This Day

**Chapter 6:** **This Day**

* * *

Eragon flexed his hands inside the new gloves he had gotten from Brom. On the outside, they looked identical to his old ones, albeit one size larger. But on the inside, they were padded with a thick layer of tanned leather, seemingly impervious to any form of cut or scrape, which is exactly what Eragon needed. The shoes, however, were identical in every way, just one size larger.

Walking through the forest with Saphira on his shoulder proved much simpler than he'd originally thought. As the sun had set, Eragon found it no harder to find his way than if it were still hanging on the horizon. Determining that the only explaination was his change - his draconic metamorphism - Eragon put all suspicion on any change to himself, to his bond with Saphira. Although he felt no hate or malice towards her, Eragon just wished that he'd had a choice in the matter. That he wasn't forced to leave his home just because he was chosen by Saphira. Setting the empty pack underneath the upturned roots of an old tree, Eragon told Saphira that this would be her bed for the next couple of days. There was some apprehension emerging within the back of his mind, but Eragon had no choice, she had become too big to hide in his room should Garrow barge in without warning. Although it was an unlikely scenario, Eragon would take no chances. _I'll see you in the morning, as long as you stay here._ If Saphira could send emotions through thought, so could he. He tried to send a feeling of promise, of assurance that he would be back here as soon as the sun came up. To his releif, he felt a second sensation of understanding.

Quickly leaving the area, Eragon felt part of his mind cloud over, becoming dark and empty, but he didn't have time to think about it. It was well past sundown, and Garrow would be worried about where he was. There was nothing Eragon wanted more than to put his uncle's thoughts to rest, but in two days, all Garrow would know was that he was dead. Attacked by wolves, or so Brom had explained.

Eragon wished there was another way, but there just wasn't. There were no other options available to him. Brom was right, Garrow would never accept the changes about to befall him. All he could do, was spend the last two days as close as he could to his uncle. But as for his cousin, Eragon didn't know what he was going to do. Roran had left so suddenly Eragon never really said goodbye. _Maybe it's for the better, _Eragon thought darkly.

By the time Eragon reached the house, he was panting, and paused for a moment to catch his breath. Before opening the door, and finding Garrow sitting at the table, staring at him. "Where were you?"

"I just lost track of time."

"You're over an hour late."

"I know-"

"Eragon, I know you're getting older, but just because Roran's left doesn't mean you can take your leave and do as you wish."

"I'm sorry uncle, I won't leave the house tomorrow at all."

Garrow gained a slight smirk. "That would be nice. But now that the planting is done here, I'm afraid I need you out there more than in here." Garrow leaned back on the seat, stretching his arms. "Since Spring is well underway, now is the best chance for you to catch something from the forests. You should easily be able to find a lone stag or doe. Unless you're going to keep finding money on the street." Eragon had a nervous laugh at his uncle's last statement.

"When do you want me to head out?"

"I was hoping as soon as possible."

"I'll stay here tomorrow, as I haven't been around much at all lately, and head out the next day. That'll give me some time to pack." Eragon was almost breaking on the inside. Garrow's plan to send him out would be the death of him...literally. He had to try and stop it. He couldn't leave with the promise of many meals and just not come back.

"Maybe I can head out tomorrow and catch something that day."

Garrow lowered his gaze towards Eragon, his piercing eyes making him all the more nervous. "We both know it takes at least two full days to track an animal, let alone catch one." Garrow eyed Eragon closely. "Eager to get out in the Spine again are we?"

"No, I just don't want to spend too much time away."

"Eragon, I don't need you to start worrying over me." Garrow pushed himself upright off the chair, walking over to the stove. "Here," he scooped out some meat and placed it into a bowl. "I'll see you in the morning Eragon. It will be an easy day for us both tomorrow. All we can do now, is wait for everything to grow."

"Same as every year." Eragon finished, taking the bowl from his uncle as he left the room and closed the door, leaving Eragon alone in the dim firelight. Eragon quickly ate the meal, and went to bed. Knowing that he had to leave early the next morning to keep his promise to Saphira.

* * *

The next morning came quickly, Eragon slept soundly as he had the bed to himself, and any of the vermin that used to live in his room had been removed due to Saphira's intervention. _At least there was some good that came from her to the house, _Eragon chuckled, pushing himself upright and examining any changes that had occurred overnight.

The backs of his hands were now skinless, leaving only his fingers looking remotely human, although his third-and-fourth fingers had developed a web between them, his thumbs also had moved back further towards his wrist. If done any other way it would've been quite painful. His feet were much the same. The tops of his feet were now scaled-blue and his toes had taken odd shapes. Not sure how they were supposed to look, Eragon quickly put on his boots. His legs had lost all hair, and his ankles had deepened in colour, forcing him to be careful which clothes he had to choose. Following his legs up, Eragon also found that any hair around his crotch had vanished too. Although he didn't keep constant check of what changes occurred around his belt-line, it still unnerved him. Eragon's torso and back had grown out, as if he'd been doing nothing but chop wood in the wilderness when he was away, and looking into a mirror he noticed his face becoming more flat, less distinguished. Actually, Eragon was surprised Garrow hadn't said anything to him about it. Although he had spent most of his time either too far away to notice, or in the dark. Thankfully, the only place where hair stuck to his body was his head. If only just. Feeling the back of his head Eragon could feel a bald-spot growing. He felt old for a moment, trying to brush his hair to hide the feature.

Eragon would have to be very careful today, one wrong angle, and Garrow would see that something was wrong, that he was changing in one way or another. Putting on a pair of pants and a shirt, Eragon left the house as quietly as he could, and went off into the forest to find Saphira. Hoping she had listened to him and stayed in the frame of the pack overnight to stay warm. Thankfully, with how cold the winter was, it promised that Spring and Summer would bring much warmth, and even two weeks out of winter Eragon felt warmer. The sun hadn't quite risen above the horizon, and was blocked by many of the trees surrounding his home and farm. But, Eragon was happy. If his life was to continue as normal, he would have no concerns of the world. Yet as he continued walking through the forest, his life would never be normal again. Not by a human's standards anyway.

Trekking through the snow, Eragon moved within a bowshot range of the makeshift shelter only to see Saphira bound out of the pack and run towards him. When Saphira was within several yards, she leapt off the ground, and glided the rest of the distance, tackling him mid-air, so they both fell into the snow, Saphira laying on Eragon. He felt a sense on dwindling fear, and immediately regretted leaving her alone in the dark forest. For whatever reason, he felt like he should have brought her home with him...or at the very least, stayed with her.

"It's alright, Saphira. It was only for one night," he said softly, reaching under her chin to sctrach her. Sitting on Eragon's chest, Saphira flared her wings and chirped loudly, an overwhelming elation climbed into Eragon's mind, leaving him no choice but to submit to the feelings of joy. Embracing the feelings, Eragon noticed that other senses came to his attention. The cold of the snow didn't bother him at all, it almost felt comfortable against his clothes. And both Eragon's senses of sight and smell also seemed increased. He could see through the trees, out into the open sky as several eagles soared overhead searching for a meal. And the distinct smell of blood was everywhere. Looking back at Saphira Eragon' noticed a feather stuck to the edge of her jaw again.

Picking it free, Saphira nuzzled into his gloved palm. _If she's this excited after one night, I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, _Eragon thought to himself. Pushing himself into a seated position, forcing Saphira into his lap. "Saphira, I can't be here long. You're going to have to stay here until tomorrow, ok?" Eragon looked hard towards Saphira, but she continued to try and bury herself into him, like a cat rubbing itself against an owner. Eragon had stopped scratching her after he'd sat up, but Saphira seemed content to continue showing how much she'd missed him. "Saphira." Eragon spoke slowly, trying to keep seriousness. But that didn't stop her actions. He fought down the urge to smile, and rub along her back.

Eragon grabbed Saphira with both hands, covering her wings so he could pick her up without too much intrusion. The blue dragon allowed him to, nipping at his gloves with eager eyes. Holding Saphira at Eragon's height, he looked straight at the young dragon, unsure if his message would get through, it seemed to work last night, but in daylight, he wasn't sure. "Saphira, I need you to stay here for the day, and all of tonight." He kept his tone serious, which almost caused Saphira to try and wriggle free, he was ruining the moment for her. "I will be back tomorrow before sundown."

Unsure if she understood, Eragon placed Saphira on the ground facing away from him. The moment she touched the snow, the young dragon jumped around, only to find Eragon's gloved-hand stopping her movements. "You must stay. I need to spend some time with uncle before we go, alright? I'll spend as much time with you as you want from then on. All I'm asking for is one day."

Saphira stopped all movement, as if Eragon's words had finally reached her. She recoiled slightly, drooping her wings so they rested against the snow. She turned her head part-way, allowing Eragon to stare straight into her eye. Many emotions ran through Eragon. Sadness of having to leave, the remorse of forcing a less-than-week-old dragon to fend for herself in the wilderness, and, an almost surreal feeling of guilt, looking into her eye, Eragon wasn't sure if the emotions were his own. _She must be trying to tell me to stay._

Determining that none of the emotions he felt were his own, Eragon turned around and walked slowly away from Saphira. Her slumped-over form diminutive sat out against the trees, but never before did it look so stark. Saphira always held herself with such pride, and power, despite being quite clumsy sometimes. But never had Eragon seen her like this. Last night was almost the same, although the promise of returning early morning helped, the promise of returning after _one full day_ wasn't quite as easy to accept. Eragon quickened his pace, not wanting to spend another moment being flooded with the thoughts of desertion and sorrow.

After less than a minute of pacing, the emotions drained away, leaving Eragon to his own mind. Realising just how much of an impact Saphira's thoughts had on him, he stopped and thought about just what was forming between them. It was uncanny; a moment ago Eragon was on the verge of tears from her thoughts of him leaving, and now he felt as if it was just a rainy day. Thankfully the sky was clear, the vibrant blue echoing what should've been a joyful day at home. Instead, Eragon was forced to live in the shadow of tomorrow. He felt as if after this day, he would never see his uncle again. After this day, Eragon would never be able to call Palancar Valley home. He would be forced to live on the road, away from sight. No-one but Saphira and Brom as company, the thought frightened him. _It is for the best._ He thought to himself. _I wish there was another way._

Making it back to the house, Eragon quietly opened the front door, and stepped inside, leaving the door ajar for the morning light. "You're up early today." Garrow spoke from behind Eragon. "Did you go out into the forest again?"

"Aye." He replied, after having nearly slammed the door in surprise from Garrow's words.

"What _have_ you been doing out there for the past few days? It's like I never see you anymore."

"Nothing."

"Eragon," Garrow stepped closer, the darkness of the room caused a few collisions of furniture and shin. "You've changed, and I can tell. Spending all this time away from home means something is wrong."

"I'm fine-"

"Then how do you explain what's happened to you? Eragon, you look like you've done nothing but chopped wood or lifted stone or pulled wagons for the past year!" Garrow placed his hand onto Eragon's forearm, causing him unease.

Eragon started to worry, Garrow _was_ noticing his changes, and the day had only begun! Was it possible to hide the changes over the entire day? "I- I… Guess I do a little too much work in the forest." Eragon tried to run with Garrow's idea, that he had been doing work in the forest. "I try to distract myself."

Garrow patted Eragon on the arm several times. "Bring some of the firewood in next time will you? It could save my back a bit of work." There was a short chuckle from the aging man, before he turned around and headed further into the house, leaving Eragon by the door-way with his breath caught. surprised that he'd gotten away with that encounter.

_I don't know how I can hide my face for the whole day!_ Eragon walked to his room, closing the door behind him. _Garrow's **bound **to notice that I look different!_ _What can I say happened that will explain this?_ Eragon sat down on his bed, staring out the cracked window. _How can I keep myself together for the whole day? What if uncle finds out? What if I can't keep it from him?_ Eragon fought his inner thoughts, hoping to subdue his feelings. A single tear clawed its way onto his cheek, immediately being wiped away with an arm. It wasn't something you could ask of a boy, to leave everything he knew within a moment's notice because a _dragon_ had chosen him. It was almost too much! Eragon wished he could tell Garrow, that he never had to leave, that he had never taken that blasted stone from the spine to begin with!

Eragon opened his window, picked up one of the rocks he had collected over the years from his dresser, then hurled the stone as hard as he could towards the forest. After a second a single dull _clap_ echoed towards his room. The stone had hit a tree, but some-ways away. Eragon hadn't noticed how strong he had become, hadn't really tested himself before. Picking up a larger stone from his dresser, Eragon hurled it through the window as hard as he could, watching as the stone flew above the ground, resulting in the same dull clap as before. He couldn't see the tree, as the morning fog had settled in as the sun had risen, but Eragon knew that if he had tried that a week ago, it would barely enter the treeline. _Just another 'change', _he muttered to himself.

After fixing up his gloves and boots, Eragon sat down on his bed, taking a deep sigh, leaning backwards until he lay across the hay-stuffed mattress. Eragon shifted uncomfortably, feeling a knot at the base of his spine. Rolling onto his side, Eragon tried to find the source of his discomfort, only to jump to his feet and reach for his mirror. After pulling his shirt off, Eragon twisted half-around and stared in surprise at the mirror. As there was, sitting just above his waist, was a scaled blue nub, as far around as a pinecone, yet only as long as the first joint of his finger.

Eragon had a tail.


	7. Leaving Home

**Chapter 7:** **Leaving Home**

* * *

_A tail! I have a tail!_ Eragon rubbed the base of his spine, feeling the strange growth over and over. Looking into the mirror Eragon saw that it was the same blue as his palms and feet, yet tapered to a pure white in the centre. He assumed from the colour that it was the bone which would continue to grow outward as the days went on, Eragon only hoped that it wouldn't be noticeable underneath his clothes, although he was surprised it wasn't noticed during his trip to Saphira, that thought worried him. _Maybe there's another change I haven't seen yet!_ Eragon made a note to explore the rest of his body in the new-found morning light, but for the moment, stood stunned by the appearance of his newest growth. As if he needed any more proof of the changes occurring.

After staring in wonder for a few minutes, Eragon continued to scan himself for any other changes he might've missed from the dark of the morning. For the most part, he was clean. Only a few features were warranted with a quick panic. There were two more patches of hair near the top of his head missing, both of which now had small spikes emerging, which forced Eragon to wear a hat to conceal the change. There were also two small lumps appearing just off his neck, which were much less noticeable. The only other change Eragon noted was much more private, as he knew nothing on dragons he was afraid of what changes were to become of him. He assumed much from looking at Saphira, but the intricate details escaped him. Although one change he noticed that did worry him was that his genitals were receding.

After redressing himself, Eragon stepped out into the main room, making sure that the hat fit enough to cover his balding scalp, but also was loose enough to not seem he was hiding something. Moving to outside, Eragon wondered where Garrow had ran off to, almost happy he didn't have to see him. Although he wanted to spend time with his uncle before he was forced to leave, what Eragon feared more was Garrow noticing that something was amiss on the inside. As if he could sense that Eragon was at war with himself and his body, with the thought of leaving against the changes pressed against him.

But it had been settled. Eragon _was_ leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it. No matter how many arguments against leaving he could think of, there was always one that outweighed all others. He wasn't human.

After having found Garrow, the two did a little work on the fields and re-planted extra seeds where others hadn't grown. A quick flash of brilliance got Eragon to rub a little dirt onto his face to conceal some of the structural changes to his features, and the act proved enough to not warrant any comment from his uncle. Although the work only took an hour, and Eragon hadn't cleaned his face for the entire day, Garrow was a little suspicious by the end of the day, but by then, it was dark enough so the changes weren't visible from a distance. Eragon tried to stay as close as he could to his uncle for the day, but had no choice in the end. A distant comfort he had been for the day, always around, but never near.

The sun had set and the two had eaten supper, Eragon immediately went to sleep, as he was leaving early the next morning to start his assumed hunt. Although Garrow had suggested he went back into the Spine for the five or so days, Eragon convinced him to be able to go southeast. Figuring that since winter had passed, the animals would be returning north to their usual homes. It was a sound enough reason for Garrow to agree, although it would only mean Eragon went straight to Saphira at sunup instead of heading north up the road towards Carvahall and looping around the entire farm out of sight.

Laying on his bed, Eragon knew it was the last time. The last time he would sleep in his bed. The last time he would be able to call this house his home. And aside from the obligatory farewell from his uncle before dawn, the last time he would be able to talk with Garrow. There was no denying Eragon's fear, sadness, regret. It wasn't his choice to leave. _I hate what she's done to me._ Eragon cursed under his breath, sitting up on his bed to look out the window into the blackness of the forest outside. _I hate it. I don't want to leave! But I must…_ Eragon opened the window slightly, allowing a subtle breeze into his room, dropping the temperature several degrees, yet it still remained comfortable. He did this every time he would go off on a hunt, the cold of the morning would wake him up.

_She did this to me for her own gain. If I am to become a dragon, and she is the second last of her race, I'll be the third._ _Part of an extinct species, what a gift that is!_ Eragon lay back down on his bed, putting himself as close as possible to the wall. _She forced me to leave...but do I really have any choice?_

* * *

Eragon awoke painfully, the nub on his back proved much more painful than yesterday when he lay on it, causing Eragon to gingerly slide to the edge of his bed and stand up. The discomfort from laying on his developing tail proved more problematic than he first realised. After having spent most of the night with constant pressure on it, his legs felt weak and numb, as if he'd been sitting on them all night. Forcing himself upright, Eragon grabbed onto his bedpost and steadied himself, feeling uneasy at first, but moving forward, Eragon slowly regained his footing and prepared to leave. A single tear ran down the side of his face as he put two spare sets of clothes into the pack, pushing them tightly into the bottom, so Garrow wouldn't notice he had them. Eragon strung his bow and tested it, the tension feeling as if it were new, like always. Placing his now unstrung bow and quiver over the back of the pack he tied them together, musing how much little weight he actually felt from them.

Stepping out of his room, Eragon walked silently through the main-room, lifting the cooking pot out of the coals and serving himself some of the stew. It was still quite hot even through most of the night. Although Eragon assumed that the sun was over an hour from rising. After eating his meal in darkness, Eragon went to the store-room and pulled out several loaves of bread, some cheese, a single piece of dried meat, a waterskin and several other items that would sustain him for several days. Eragon had gathered enough supplies to last four days, although he left them all on the table for Garrow to double check, as was what always happened. The entire time during the process of ferrying food from one room to the table Eragon sobbed quietly to himself. The last moments Eragon would spend in his house, were spent silently wishing that the whole event never happened. That he'd never found the egg, that Saphira had never hatched, that he hadn't have listened to Brom when he said to-

Eragon stopped. _He knew!_ _He knew all along what was going to happen!_ His anger then shifted from Saphira, to Brom. _How could he set this onto me! If he knew what was going to happen then why didn't he stop it? If he knew how precious the egg was, why leave it with me?_

Having sat down at the realisation that there was more to the issue than he knew, Garrow's door opened, and Eragon quickly dried his tears with the sleeves of his shirt. This would be the last moment he saw his uncle. Unbeknownst to Garrow, it would be the last words he would say to Eragon.

"Hopefully this should last you about five days, since you don't have to trek up any mountains." Garrow wrapped all the supplies on the table up in a white cloth and packed it into a tight ball, small enough to fit in the top of Eragon's pack. "You be careful out there Eragon, but come back if you catch anything. Last thing you need is to make a catch, then have wolves or bears take it from you while out getting more."

"Alright. I'll only travel a half-day out to avoid wearing myself out."

"You'd be lucky to catch something that close."

"I can't help but try."

Patted Eragon on the shoulder, taking a grip of him after third contact. "You're stronger than you've ever been, even I can tell that from this light. Don't go out trying to catch a bear now."

Eragon held back a short laugh, knowing this was the last moment they would share. "I know."

"Thatta boy." Garrow turned around and headed back to his room. "Go on now, I'll see you before weeks end."

Seeing his uncle turn away Eragon choked back several tears. Knowing what would happen next, Eragon stuffed his pack with the food, and opened the front door. "Goodbye uncle." He said through clenched teeth. Stepping out the door and closing it soundlessly, Eragon stepped off the front porch and headed down the road, tears streaming down his face. "I'll miss you."

Eragon didn't try to hold his emotions back, he knew he was the only person awake for miles and there was nothing more that he wanted to do than turn around and run back home. But, this was his fate, he was forced to leave his home and become something more than himself. Eragon only wished he didn't have to leave. As to the rest of the world, Eragon would die by an animal attack.

Trudging down towards the road, Eragon continued to let his emotions take control. His footsteps becoming monotonous under the constant tears and mumbling of a young man feeling loss. To lose his home, his family, his life, and to be forced to start anew even as a new _species_ was almost too much to ask of him. The only thought spurring him on was that there was nothing he could do about it. Eragon needed all the help he could get, whether it be from Brom telling him what was happening, or from Saphira –if she ever learnt how to talk- as the old man had said she would.

Once Eragon had made it to the main road, he glanced towards the north, seeing that the road was empty, but above the tree-line black clouds were visible above Carvahall. It wasn't the best day to set out, but Eragon had no choice. He turned south and walked under a half-mile, only to cut back into the forest to find Saphira.

After twenty minutes of trekking through the forest, Eragon felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Usually Eragon enjoyed the wilderness, the solitude of not having to be anyone's problem. But this time, it was solitude, for the wrong reasons. It took another minute of walking before Eragon found Saphira sitting in a tree. At the mere sight of Eragon, Saphira chirped loudly and leapt off the branch, floating towards Eragon on the ground, landing several feet before him. Eragon put his pack on the ground, threw off his gloves and started petting Saphira, scratching the back of her head with one hand and under her wing with another. It seemed to Eragon as if she'd grown again, her neck had grown thicker and her legs too. But, it seemed almost impossible the rate Saphira was growing. Then again, Eragon could barely believe that within a month he was to become a dragon.

Eragon sat in the thin snow petting Saphira as he had several days before. She lay on her back in his lap, occasionally nipping at his hand whenever Eragon got distracted and stopped scratching her belly. Once Eragon had finished scratching her, Saphira started climbing one of the nearby trees and sat on the lowest branch above Eragon. She looked fascinating to him, she had almost mastered climbing the trees, making it to the branches within three jumps, off a running start anyway.

An hour passed of Eragon watching Saphira move from branch to branch, pulling off sticks and twigs, sharpening her claws on the branches, she seemed almost feline in her behaviours. But eventually, he grew bored and picked himself up off the snow. After having thrown off his gloves, Eragon found little use in putting them back on again, so he tied them to the outside of his pack. Also taking off his shoes as the new ones Brom had given him became tight. Eragon's feet hadn't grown much longer in length, in fact he was sure they had shortened a half-inch or so. But they had expanded outward, widening in girth ever so slightly. The snow underneath his scaled feet was almost non-existent. He felt no cold at all from the thin snow, nor from his hands and the breeze whipping through the forest. _At least I know Saphira wasn't cold_. He thought to himself. Not a moment later he heard Saphira land next to him and after sniffing at his bag chirped once, obviously having noticed the food.

Eragon opened the pack, and took out the dried piece of meat. Using his hunting knife he sliced off three slivers, throwing one at Saphira, watching as she quickly devoured the meat and returned her attention to him, sitting patiently. Eragon threw the second strip at her, which was eaten with equal enthusiasm as the first. After packing away the rest of the meat, Eragon kept the third strip out and took a bite himself, the taste quite salty, but not enough to be horrible.

After lifting the pack onto his back, Eragon started walking back towards the road with Saphira sitting on his shoulder. Eragon took another bite of the meat, and gave the rest to Saphira. She ate it more civilly than before, but still devoured the food faster than Eragon thought safe. Making his way to the edge of the road, Eragon quickly moved to the other side of the road, the whole landscape a clear plain for many miles across before returning to forest. He was more likely to be seen on the plain as opposed to the forest, but with enough warning, Eragon could hide Saphira and continue walking like nothing happened. Once again, his added strength allowed him to move with ease no matter where Saphira was positioned on his shoulder or pack. That was one of the few things he was happy about with the changes his body had taken.

Eragon walked the half-mile or so across the plain to the far side forest, setting his pack down against a nearby tree and placing himself not far from it. Saphira immediately moved from Eragon's shoulder to his lap, but he made no motion. She curled up and seemed ready to sleep, and Eragon would let her. After all, he had no idea when Brom was going to arrive. Looking towards Carvahall the black clouds had multiplied dramatically. Yet towards the south the skies were clear. The sky didn't make sense unless...Brom was already coming! The clouds were from his fire!

He could be leaving Palancar valley sooner than he expected.

* * *

**The next few chapters may take a bit for me to get up. Although they are already written out, I have spotted more than a few areas where I can add some polish, especially in the more emotional areas dealing with Eragon and Saphira. (yeah...you all know how deep I can get)**

**Anyways, I hope to have them up soon, so I can not only resume writing my other fics, but also try to get some new content up for this one.**

**Until next time!**


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